Page 21 of Crave Me

Me:

Yes. That’s the thing though. I will technically be working, but you can be my plus-one? Are you comfortable hanging by yourself there while I work?

Cole:

I’d love nothing more than to be your plus-one. I’m sure your boss won’t have an issue with it.

Kind of a weird thing to add in. It doesn’t give me the warm fuzzies, but I try to shake it off.

Me: I’ll send you the details right now. See you tomorrow, Cole.

Cole: Tomorrow. Night pretty lady.

I send him the itinerary before turning my phone on silent for the night and go through my nighttime routine. Once I’ve got my futon laid out and I’m curled up, I work through my mental checklist of everything that needs to get done in the morning in preparation for the wedding. I want this to showcase my work and give Sawyer a reason to be glad that he hired me and trusted me with his own wedding. But most of all, I want to give them memories that will last a lifetime.

I try to stay focused on making sure I’m not forgetting anything, but thoughts of Dallas keep sneaking in. I wish I knew what it was about him that caused my body to react the way it does, and I hope inviting Cole as my plus-one doesn’t cause any issues tomorrow.

Avoiding him this week only made me think of him more. I can’t fight the fact that I crave those piercing blue eyes when he shamelessly checks me out. The way he slowly peruses my body from head to toe when I walk into a room is addictive. No onehas ever made me feel good from that kind of attention, and I want more of it. Maybe if I give Cole a chance, those feelings will arise. But something deep within me is whispering that it’s Dallas. Only Dallas.

Sleep comes before I’m ready, and I drift off, hoping like hell the nightmares stay away.

Chapter Eight

Sawyer

Ivy floats down the aisle toward me and I can’t hold back my emotions. The tears in my eyes spill over and I wipe them away.

Blaire and her team overhauled the distillery’s old, empty barn, and they outdid themselves. I know Ivy would have married me in a dirty alley if it meant becoming my wife, but giving her a dream wedding fills me with pride. Wooden benches line both sides of the aisle, our family and friends—the people closest and most important to us—fill the rows. Fairy lights are strung from the rafters, and the walls are stacked with empty whiskey barrels. I stand under a simple white arch covered in greenery and more tiny lights.

My beautiful girl takes confident steps in my direction, on the arm of Reid. Since both of her parents have passed, she wanted my father to give her away, but his mobility issues would have made that challenging. Reid was happy to step up. He and Ivy have a special relationship, and while I wasn’t happy about it at first, it’s one I am thankful for now. Her dress fits like a glove. The sleeves are made of skin-tone mesh, sprinkled with delicate vines of lace that curve and wrap around her arms and down to her dainty wrists. The bodice matches, and lace dips lowbetween her small breasts, connecting to a tight satin skirt that flares out slightly to the floor. The back is the same flesh-tone mesh, with beaded pearls down her spine and small train. The gorgeous raven-black hair that I’m obsessed with is worn down to her waist, just how I’d hoped she’d wear it. She looks like a fucking dream.

Reid walks her directly to the altar before hugging her and placing her little hand in mine. Her beautiful emerald eyes are glassy, but her smile is huge. God, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and she’s all mine. It took ten long years of emptiness, but my baby found her way back to me, just like I knew she would.

“Hi, butterfly.”

She laughs lightly, just for me to hear.

“Hi.”

The ceremony goes by in a whirlwind, my eyes never leaving my girl. When the officiant tells me I can kiss my bride, I don’t hesitate. Grabbing Ivy around the waist, I pull her tight, her little body flush against mine. I comb my fingers through her hair and grasp the back of her head with one of my hands, cupping her cheek with the other, and dip her slightly. I kiss her deeply, putting every bit of emotion behind it. I kiss her like she’s the only girl in the world I’ve ever loved, like she’s the center of my fucking world. Because she always has been. I pull back slightly, straightening her and resting my forehead against hers, sharing air.

“Hi, wife.”

“Hi, husband.”

“It is my great honor and privilege to introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer Hayes!”

The crowd erupts in cheers and applause, but it’s all silence around me as I stare at the only woman I’ve ever known and loved all of.

My Ivy.

My wife.

Chapter Nine

Dallas

“Another,” I tell the bartender. The best thing about my brother’s wedding, besides him marrying his childhood sweetheart, is the open bar. The bartender, I think he said his name is Chuck, sets another Aspen Ridge whiskey in front of me—because what else are you going to serve at your reception when you’re the CEO of a distillery—and I turn to face the dance floor again. The music is loud; some of Ivy and Sawyer’s throwback favorites boom through the speakers. Scanning the crowd, my eyes stop on the sexy-as-fuck redhead talking animatedly on the opposite side of the dance floor. She’s wearing a little black dress that hugs her body perfectly. Her head is thrown back in a laugh, her hair cascading down her back. My dick responds like a teenager who’s never fucked before.

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